A sharp horror spoof and blunt force trauma
Little did you know that Jason, Freddy Krueger, and all the other bogeymen of modern movies weren't just psychotic mass murderers -- they were workaholics, too. It takes preparation to get a crew of horny teenagers into a decaying mansion and slaughter them one by one, and you still have to chase down the virgin scream queen in the final reels. "You have no idea how much cardio I have to do," gripes Leslie Vernon, panting his way through a workout.
Who's Leslie Vernon ? The dark star of "Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon," and a mad slasher who takes his duties seriously. The movie's a cheeky, low-budget goof on dice-and-slice horror films, but for all the visible seams, it's a lot cleverer than "Scream."
The conceit is that all those famous movie killers were for real and that a college news team headed by reporter Taylor Gentry (Angela Goethals ) has stumbled on to the next one, who's granting her backstage access. As played by Nathan Baesel (ABC's "Invasion" ), Leslie suggests Jim Carrey torn between his perfectionist and homicidal impulses. (Either that, or the young Jack Lemmon as Norman Bates.) Patiently explaining to Taylor and her cameramen (Ben Pace and Britain Spellings ) how he chooses his target group, Leslie says "One from Column A, one from Column B, a Survivor Girl, tie 'em all together."
A "Survivor Girl"? "Sorry, industry term."
Like a mockumentary remake of " The Blair Witch Project," "Behind the Mask" creates a meta-mythology for junk flicks. Director Scott Glosserman (who wrote the script with David J. Stieve ) lets Leslie wax semiotic about "yonic imagery" and throws in a few cameos for the buffs: Zelda Rubi nstein, the miniature medium from "Poltergeist," as an unlucky librarian; Robert "Freddy Krueger" Englund as Leslie's "Ahab" or psycho-hunter (it's the old Donald Pleasance role from "Halloween" ); Kane Hodder , the hulking stuntman who played Jason in "Friday the 13th" parts 242 through 869.
This would all just be kids dinking around with dad's videocam if not for two things: The dialogue has wit, and the rug gets pulled out from under us and the characters in several short, sharp jolts. At a certain point, "Behind the Mask" loses the tatty digital-video and immerses us in cinema: 35mm, stereo sound, eek-eek-eeks on the soundtrack.
By now, Leslie's wearing a fright mask and wielding a rusty scythe, and it's the reporter's lousy luck that she's up against a depraved maniac who's also an entrepreneurial careerist. "I made a choice to counterbalance all those things that are held good," our plucky madman tells her before he drops the killer blow. "You chose journalism." 